Essence of brutality
by os.ds.98
Summary: First chapter slightly like kaleidoscope of magic but it has my own little twist to it. This story will completely diverge from karldin- Sensei's version.
1. Chapter 1

The obsidian bars of Azkaban creaked ominously as tundra winds permutated the air, the smell of dried blood and piss littered around the meagre cell. Inmates screamed with anguish, begging and pleading to their gods, others cackled at the sheer misery and lavished in the attention they received from the dementors as they inhaled deeply, sucking and absorbing happy memories at a unprecedented rate.

Alone in his cell sat a boy who's once emerald eyes radiated with warmth and love now held unfathomable amounts of hate. His eyes glistened with tears as he remembered his memories and the past.

 **Flashback:**

He lay on the soft hospital bed, a wide grin on his face triumphant on his victory over the basilisk. He couldn't believe the sheer audacity of his lack of preparation had borne fruit. He was more of an action type than a thinker. As he lay there he gave Ginny an elated look which she reciprocated happily. Ron as always was in a deep sleep.

The wooden doors of the hospital wing unexpectedly were wrenched open, revealing the perpetual sneering faces of Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape while trailing behind them in a sombre manner were the house elf Dobby and Albus Dumbledore and the conflicted minister of magic.

Cornelius Fudge.

"Explain Mr Potter on how prior to your attendance to the hospital wing, we managed to find an artefact of great evil grasped firmly in your embrace and the broken hilt of Gryffindor's sword one of Hogwarts esteemed founders." Drawled Lucius silkily.

"Potter like his father before him always was one too completely disregard rules implemented to keep impudent children such as himself in line." Spat Snape hatred evident in his charcoal eyes as he stared unremorsefully into the son of his greatest tormentor.

"Severus, calm down and have a lemon drop I personally find them rather soothing. Now onto more pressing matters, Cornelius do I have your express permission for the administration of veritaserum?"

Fiddling with his bowler hat at all the attention now solely on him, he gave a sharp nod. The reaction for such an action were instant. Dumbledore shot a sad look at Harry. Snape looked conflicted whilst Lucius smirked with reckless abandon and unceremoniously deposited a bag of gold galleons into the awaiting abyss that was Fudges pocket.

Harry sat stunned through all of this he had read about veritaserum and was in a state of shock, what was Dumbledore thinking?

"Cornelius, Lucius can you fetch Amelia? Severus get the potion. I will stay here." Said Dumbledore.

The three nodded, Snape staring at Dumbledore a tad more than what was necessary a legilimency message passed between the two before he left his cloak billowing after him. Dumbledore turned around to face the duo wand raised pointing it at harry a look of fear, self- loathing and regret all fused into one.

"Supprimere et memoriam horum!"

Harry glowed gold and he shook where he lay. Grasping his head in agony as something invaded his mind. Guarding and restraining it.

"Quiesco" murmured Dumbledore, raising his wand at Ginny causing her to yawn loudly before drifting off into a deep slumber as her breathing relaxed.

"Harry my boy, remember this very carefully for what I am about to impart onto you is imperative. I am doing this for you, for the greater good. Know I will always endeavour to help. Follow my lead and all shall be fine.

The minister came back with a stern women a frown upon her face as her eye brows furrowed deeply her harsh lines becoming more prominent. "Get on with it"

Snape walked to the edge of Harry`s bed and roughly grasped his chin tipping exactly three drops of liquid onto his tongue before quickly snatching his hand back as if burned.

"Is your name Harry potter?"

"Well duh" he repeated monotonously

"Tell us what happened at the chamber yesterday!"

 **End flashback:**

Harry woke up from his slumber, the pain in his eyes becoming more prominent. The constant strain of dementor exposure was taking a toll on him. He could not summon any anger towards Dumbledore only hatred in its entirety. He could feel them gathering around his decrepit cell like vultures lusting to devour his soul. The moment he felt a shred of emotion they circled in pairs to feast upon his misery and pain.

Harry potter was broken. Broken beyond repair. He was the living embodiment of cold both in mind and body. Cold and empty.

The pain in his eyes reached unbearable levels. It felt his eyes were being gouged out and burned with hot pokers. Harry could not stand it when inexplicably it happened.

His hatred magnified beyond his wildest imaginations. His hatred at Voldemort, Dumbledore, his aunt and uncle, his cousin, his parents for leaving him all alone in this cursed and miserable world. His anger at his farce of a trial how the sheep of the wizarding world threw him to the wolfs.

His scar pulsed painfully, throbbing in sync with his eyes. His brain felt like it was bathed in the flames of a thousand suns. The magic caressed his skin like an overflowing current of magma waiting to erupt from his eyes the metaphorical volcano. He could dimly feel wisps of shadow drift out of skin before shattering into hundreds of pieces.

They had asked no one, told no one. His was a secret incarnation. Hidden from the eyes of the public, concealed within lies and underhand dealings. Not a single Hogwarts teacher besides from his favourite potions professor Snape and the beloved headmaster had known of his incarceration. Lucius and Cornelius were sworn to secrecy.

Men in black robes and hoods had taken him and thrown him in this cell.

His hatred rose inch by decadent inch and filled him to the brim, magic exploding from every spore in his body causing an unearthly scream to fill the cell. The bars evaporating and closer dementors burning and screeching amongst the cackle of flames. As Harry lost conscious his eyes gave one last throb of pain before ceasing.

…

Bright lights was what he awoke too. He could see the wards and runes convey all around the Island of Azkaban. He could see in crystal clarity, the separate elements used for respiration in the exhales of inmates. He felt cold and in control. His hatred felt like a sharp needle. Refined beyond measure was his greatest treasure. He felt different. Oh so different.

He could not feel the cold aura that was usually quite palpable. He felt them crowding around his cell but they didn't drain his memories. He now had a buffer. Something was wrong with his eyes.

And his body. He could feel the magic running through him like a current. It was the same feeling he got when facing the 60 foot basilisk. But now he got that feeling with a flick of his wrist without his trusted holly and phoenix wand. Frost enveloped the surrounding area near him as dementors glided in his abode tasked with sucking his soul.

He stared at them and saw the black voids that they were. He could see the virtual endlessness of their foreign magic that flowed through their body. Their aura was nothing compared to his eyes now.

The dementor nearest to him floated and lowered his hood.

Harry felt no alarm, a fact that registered it was either drive the dementors away or have the alternative of getting sucked.

Raising his pale and thin hand out, palm facing outwards.

"Expecto patronum"

White light imploded from his hand, careening towards the dementors drenching them from hood to shoe. They screeched in union with their fellow brethren and fled out the cell to the bleakness of Azkaban, shrieking in agony.

Fascinating. I don't require a wand to channel magic anymore…My hands suffice. My body itself embodies magic. But the drain was noticeable very much so. The patronus also felt different, where before it required emotion to feed and sustain all I need is will now.

Harry sat down beads of sweat glistened and threatened to fall down his forehead, considering many things had happened too fast. Looking down at his body, he saw the damage he sustained at the hands of his loving relatives and the less the stellar treatment of the Azkaban wardens. He was basically a stick. Pale and sickly and dirty. Very very dirty. But the magic was there.

He stared around the room and removed his glasses. A gift from the Dursley's. Grasping them tightly around his hands he snapped them harshly before discarding them without a care. His vision was perfect. The way he was now though stunned him. Dumbledore and Fudge were not relevant until he got out of here.

….

"It has happened, Albus. The boy has awakened them. Should we get him out?" asked a man encased within dragon hide.

Dumbledore placed three lemon drops in his mouth and took time in chewing the delectable sweets. "We have four more months left before he has to start his forth tenure at Hogwarts. Describe me his eyes. Now!"

The man looked at Dumbledore with wonder seeping into his eyes as he talked with reverence. "Albus, his eyes are no longer emerald like lily but they are black. Shining onyx. And when magic is channelled into them….."

Albus leaned forward hand reaching out for more lemon drops as he gestured to continue a look of desperation on his face.

"They turn red. A blazing red with a single tomoe.. Why doesn't he have all three? That is how it should be!"

Dumbledore felt relived beyond measure. Harry had done it. After many centuries he had awoken eyes of unfathomable power.

"He has magic coursing through his veins and has the ability to manipulate it wandlessly. The dementors have no effect on him.

Dumbledore looked as if he had aged hundreds of thousands of years. The pain evident upon his face. "I suppose… Suppose it can't be helped. Alert the department Bode, they have my express authorization. And it's time to recall them…." He said meaningfully.

Bode nodded briskly. "It shall be done but how will you explain yourself to the boy?"

Dumbledore stood and looked out the window staring at the giant squid in the black lake as it waved at him. "I shall tell him the truth. He will never forgive me Bode. But he won't turn out like Tom. Sometimes I wonder, if I am the monster taking away so much from harry. If I am just another dark lord.

Bode nodded again. They were monsters indeed, Albus and the department. But if that was what they needed to be to save the inhabitants of the magical world than that's what they were monsters..

…..

Harry stood in his cell. Today was the day he felt pure. He owed them so much pain. The way they tortured him… He had gained a pain tolerance that was already quite high was now bolstered by godly levels. He learned to look through the pain, disregard it at will.

It was after the day he had driven out the dementors with no wand. They had slipped a tray of food in, and he devoured readily.

And promptly fell asleep.

He was shackled, naked and had a wand tip at his forehead. He could still use magic but it was of no use, it was only a trickle in comparison to the raging maelstrom he had before.

He activated his eyes attempting to look through the darkness. He saw a hooded man open his mouth, leering at him. The bright strands of magic poured out of the wand and was expelled out at his forehead.

"Crucio"

Harry screamed and screamed, trying to escape his shackles. White hot knives tearing through his body, his mind pierced by billions of needles. He felt every last drop. He screamed until his throat was raw and sore, before screaming again. The pain was absolute, consuming.

The wand was pointed at him again.

"Crucio"

The world went red once more and he resumed his screams.

After torturing him two hours a day, until he could clearly see how the strands of magic were moulded and he tried to corrupt the tendrils to lessen its coherence.

After torturing him with curses for days on end, they threw him into a room and men beat him physically. Once a female operative had collected a few of his sperm. Causing him to blush furiously at the slightest prerogative.

He stopped caring about his plight. He stopped trusting and assuming. Only react and survive.

On the 8th day it was different. He could see how magic flowed through each person and how they moved before they moved through minuscular twitches. They pounced him expecting an easy win. 5 were dead and 7 were never going to move again.

He had been broken only to be reformed into something. It had occurred to him after every torture session, his perception increased conspicuously after every torture session. He had made the connections quite fast and he long concluded his imprisonment had been to do with awaking these eyes.

The doors to his cell opened.

"Harry potter, inmate number 300. You have served your sentence diligently and are about to be freed. Sign this paper and accompany us to the edge of the island. There will be someone to collect you."

It was his last day of imprisonment. He felt nothing. He did not care anymore. He was not peaceful but cold and hard. He felt with abnormal clarity. His imprisonment had taught him one thing in abundance. He was weak. Weak beyond measure. He felt bile rise to his throat as he thought of his former self. How he used to be. Lazy weak, procrastinating and a slave to his own whims and desires. Well no more.

"Before you go, know that I am sorry for what you have endured here. This is no place for a child. No matter the crime."

Harry nodded to him. He felt no malice towards Azkaban only the certain truth that he would burn every last brick to embers. It had turned him into something unique. He saw the uselessness of unnecessary emotion. Do not feel emotion, only use it.


	2. Chapter 2

He opened the door and walked through it. Waiting in front of him were the two people responsible, Dumbledore and Fudge. They only looked at him, obviously unable to speak.

Harry had changed too much from his short imprisonment. The boy who was once short, had grown several inches taller. His hair had lengthened and he now sported a mane of black hair that fell down to his shoulders.

But Dumbledore was struck to the core by the boy's eyes. True, they were black naturally now, not the emerald green. But they gave away nothing, no emotions or fluctuation.

Nothing.

It was as if his mind was a void. That was all his Legilimency picked up. He could penetrate further, but he did not.

"Hello, Professor. Minister. I liked my accommodations and entertainment for this summer. I will make sure you enjoy the same, someday. You have my word on that", smiled Harry.

Dumbledore grimaced, as did Fudge. They did not know what the department had done to accelerate the process, and they did not want to know.

All Dumbledore could do was explain completely, and hope that Harry would understand. Oh, he did not expect forgiveness.

He did not deserve it. None of them did. But they would save their people at any cost, even one as high as this.

"Harry. As you have no doubt deduced, you were thrown in here for a reason. It is not on record. Except for your friends and some select people, the world thinks you were in Privet Drive. Allow me to explain why this was done to you, and then you can do what you wish to me. I daresay I have earned it."

Harry was still smiling. Amusing. The old traitor obviously had some more lies to tell him.

No matter. He was hardly strong enough to take on Dumbledore and Fudge. Not yet. But he would be.

"Let's go, Professor."

Dumbledore nodded, and grasped his arm causing them to disapparate. Fudge looked on sadly.

He cursed the day he had taken this job, and he cursed the Department for concocting this plan and disapparated.

…

They reappeared in the headmasters office, the sounds of his trinkets resonated through the confined space.

Harry looked at Dumbledore. The old man had seated himself in his chair, and looked at Harry.

"Do you hate me?"

Harry considered the question. It may sound stupid, but it was really not. Dumbledore could glean everything important about his state of mind from this conversation.

"No. I do not hate you. But I think you should die painfully, screaming your agony."

Dumbledore flinched at the casual way in which the young boy said those words.

"Would you kill me that way right now? If I allowed you…"

Harry shook his head, and activated his eyes. Dumbledore gasped, and conjured a mirror for Harry's benefit. The boy's eyes widened. Staring back at him were eyes of blazing red, three black tomoe marking them at equal intervals. The pupils were the normal white.

"You are a traitor. The death of people like you should benefit me, not harm me. That, and I can see your magic. It is practically leaking off you, saturating the air. You are too strong for me as of now, traitor." Harry said calmly.

Dumbledore looked sad as the boy he thought of as a grandson called him traitor. With good reason, of course.

"I will explain everything, Harry. I know the utter pain you have experienced in your life, and it is all down to me. Me and the Department, and some others who you will meet shortly."

Harry looked at the old man in interest. He might be a traitor, but he could be used. No one could fool him anymore with the eyes he possessed.

"Department?" Harry asked.

"The Department of Mysteries. The most secret department in the entire Ministry. I lead it, along with two of my friends. Those eyes you have awakened are special, and they have been awakened only once in recorded history. Their origins are lost in time. They have a name."

"What is their name?" Harry asked. Dumbledore would be useful until Harry got strong enough to kill him. He would extract every drop of knowledge about his eyes, by whatever means necessary

" _Sharingan_. One of your ancestors awakened these eyes, Arcturus Potter. He recorded that it was a dormant trait in the potter line, and was a gift of magic itself. Before you hear more of it, I would have you meet some people… people who by all rights should have been with you since your birth."

Harry looked at Dumbledore, his Sharingan picking up minute fluctuations in the man's body language. The headmaster was tense, and anticipatory. He braced himself.

The door opened to reveal two figures, one was quite tall and the other was shorter. Both wore hooded robes.

"Did you bring them?" asked Dumbledore. The two nodded, taking off their hoods.

Harry could not believe it. He concentrated with his eyes, channelling every bit of his magic, hoping beyond hope that this was a joke.

It was not.

Standing in front of him were two people who should by all rights be dead. The male had the same dark mop of hair as him, and hazel eyes. More importantly, he looked like a carbon copy of Harry.

 _James Potter, his father_.

Next to him stood a very beautiful woman with flowing red hair. She had the same emerald eyes he himself used to have.

 _Lily Potter, mother._

Harry's mind which had before been on the brink of insanity snapped completely.

Harry giggled which soon turned into a cruel laugh mixed with wheezing.

"Harry…" said Lily softly. James just watched the scene with mixed emotions along with Dumbledore. Harry could practically smell the stifling guilt in the room.

He hated them all. Oh, how he hated them. He wanted to torture them with that Cruciatus curse till they went insane. The way he nearly went insane due to Dumbledore.

"You got me abused for days on end, treated less than a house elf and now have the audacity to revive my parents from nothingness"

Lily gasped with James, and looked at Harry with pity in her eyes. James shook his head as if he could not believe what he was hearing…

Harry laughed his magic swirling around him, cold and dark as an apparition of a demon hovered above him. His Sharingan's tomoe started rotating slowly before gaining speed as they circled within creating four bars intersecting a pinwheel. Tears of blood slowly dripped from his cheeks as he stared at his `parents`

Dumbledore and Lily reached into their respective pockets and pulled out their wands as James withdrew a jar filled with a preservation potion containing two eyes.

"Harry, over usage of those eyes lead to blindness unless given another pair to stave off and eradicate the disease" urged Dumbledore.

The mangekyo in his eyes deactivated into the regular three tomoe Sharingan as Harry stopped feeding magic to them.

Lighting fast Dumbledore sent an overpowered stunner directly at Harry's forehead. His Sharingan saw the spell in slow motion but his body couldn't keep up. He crumpled to the floor motionless.

"James, Lily, quickly before he awakens"

….

Harry woke up to the soft feel of the hospital wing's fluffy pillows. He felt…great. He opened his eyes, but found he could not see beyond the white cloth that blindfolded him.

His eyes felt strong, so much stronger than before that it was like comparing a pebble to a mountain. He doubted he would even understand their potential.

Curiosity overwhelmed him. Why were his eyes so special? Dumbledore had said-

 _Dumbledore…James, Lily._

His rage exploded, causing the scrap of cloth to fall off burning with black flames. It did not extinguish till ashes.

The door opened violently, letting in the three figures he hated more than Voldemort himself. Lily potter rushed to him, and took his head in her palms.

Harry stared into his mother's eyes with an anger that was so pure that she flinched violently. Images flashed through his mind of how he wanted them all to die screaming at his hands, rip them apart, souls eaten, bones broken, tear asunder…

Lily was unable to look away from her son's eyes. Then she screamed, loosing every bit of air in her lungs. She screamed as she saw in her mind what Harry wanted to do to them…to his own parents. But that was nothing compared to Dumbledore's imagined fate…

Dumbledore immediately cast a silencing charm.

"Those eyes! It is those eyes. James, get her to break eye contact, now!"

James pulled the screaming Lily away, all the time looking regretfully at Harry. Lily stopped screaming, and started retching in the sink nearby.

Harry stared at them all, gaining a new epiphany. He did not care for their reasons. They were alive all this time, and had let him suffer to an extent no one should. He did not hate them, he realized. He would not waste emotion on them. No. He wanted to _hurt_ them. And he could not do that like this. He calmed his anger from a raging inferno to a sharp crystal knife.

He would laugh while they burned.

Lily stared at him, avoiding his eyes studiously. His perception had increased a hundredfold…he could see even the individual pores on their skin, see it breathing.

He could predict their actions to such a scale that it would seem like he could read the future. And he could see the magic permeating the air, and the people…to its lowest detail.

It was beautiful. The castle was a hue of multiple shining colours. His so called parents were not as strong as Dumbledore, who practically oozed magic, but they were still very strong.

But these eyes he had now…

He got up slowly, walking to the mirror at his bedside. His eyes had changed…changed from the three-comma Sharingan to a Sharingan of a complex shape.

It had a triangle-like shape, with arcs as sides and small circles as vertices. The circles were connected to the circumference of his pupil by lines.

He felt them, and knew that to master these eyes would take a long time. He could _feel_ their potential and the unfathomable depth of their power.

His own body's magic had increased considerably. He felt he could control it a lot better, and his reserves were also increased by a good amount.

" **Less admiring boy, it's important you get out of here and get to Gringotts" said a voice.**

"Who's there, show yourself"

Dumbledore, Lily and James looked at him with trepidation, his stay at Azkaban must have affected Harry deeper than they thought.

" **I am a spirt engraved deep within your new eyes.. Channel magic to your eyes and I'll provide the rest. And when conversing with me boy you just have to think and I'll hear. "**

"Why should I trust you?"

" **You trusted that old fool and he knocked you out.."**

"Touché" Harry admitted

Channelling magic into his eyes a swirl of distorted space originating from his left eye was expelled sucking him within but not before he gave Dumbledore, Lily and James the middle finger.

.


	3. Chapter 3

The differences between day and night in Diagon Alley were quite prominent. In the day Diagon Alley was constantly over flowed with the cries of young and old, pure and muggleborn, wizard and witch. Almost all shops were opened and customers flowed seamlessly in and out exuding a warm and peaceful aura. Whereas during night time all the shops were closed with the exception of a few, and the place was almost barren. Today was such a night.

A spiral of air expelled a bespectacled Harry potter. Tom the bartender, was the only one in the Leaky Cauldron. He eyed the hooded Potter wearily once he noticed the eyes glowing slightly behind the hood. He kept his eyes on him the entire way until he reached the portal to Diagon Alley. He left through the portal and with a muffled snap the bricks separating the alley from the cauldron closed.

Making his way towards the entrance of Gringotts, his Sharingan tomoe rotated slowly keeping and eye out for any threat. Always evaluating and watching.

`Mind telling me, exactly who you are and how you just happen to reside within my eyes? ` Thought Harry.

` Knowledge of me are best kept secret when there are people who can quite easily pluck it from your thoughts`

` Mind telling me what we're doing here at least? ` Thought Harry.

` We are here for many reasons. First is to visit a certain vault and second to acquire a possession of mine that was taken by the greedy race of goblins. `

A set burnished bronze doors prevented entrance as flanking the doors were a battalion of goblins in garbs of scarlet and gold. Harry`s Sharingan however completely disregarded the goblins as he stared at the short set words engraved deeply within the door.

Enter stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

Through the doors was a vast marble hall littered with counters that housed Goblins. They sorted through vast amounts of paperwork at an unprecedented rate working in perfect unison with their neighbours. Their nimble fingers making short work of their assigned tasks.

` Go to the one in the far left and ask for Bloodfang`

Harry walked deliberately through the polished surface of Gringotts enjoying the frustrated looks he received from the goblins.

"I'm here to seek the audience of Bloodfang" articulated Harry as if speaking to someone below intelligence.

The goblin stared into the onyx eyes of Harry. "Fees are required. The more its value, the longer duration you have to talk to the esteemed Bloodfang" said the Goblin completely dismissing the young potter with a wave of its manicured hand.

` Show him Godric`s rented sword`

Removing the Illusion from his waist, showed in all its glory the silver blade encrusted with crimson rubies, engraved upon the blade resided the name Godric Gryffindor.

"Would this be of value" Harry said cheekily.

All sound within the halls of Gringotts ceased as they stared at the object with profound senses of reverence.

Cries of "Thief" permutated the air as the Goblins began frothing at the mouth.

"In exchange for the sword, I want the Perverell Tantō. Failure to comply will result in the eradication of the British branch of Gringotts. Cackled Harry his hair obscuring his eyes in his moment of unrestricted insanity.

A second pregnant silence ensued as confusion and bewilderment ran rampart in the faces of the Goblins.

With resignation the Goblin pressed a button on the underside of his work office, the effect was instant. A secret vault opened with a creek, fine level of dust on every surface and there dead centre upon a pedestal was a fine double – edged short sword, perfect for cutting and defence.

`I used to be a master at that 'reminisced the self-proclaimed voice that plagued Harry.

Sensing the underlying level of sadness from the voice Harry walked inside the vault and inspected the Tantō with his Sharingan, the sheer level of runes baffled him. The scope of them even eluded his Sharingan.

Grasping it tightly in the palm of his hand he channelled a trickle of magic through the Tantō and watched it come to life as small sparks of white lighting encased it.

`It's beautiful and it's ALL MINE` Harry whispered possessively.

"Pleasure doing business with you Goblins." With a wave of his hand he levitated the sword of Gryffindor and sent it careening towards the horde of goblins and watched as they squabbled and fight each other to assert their dominance over each other and acquire the blade.

`What a disgusting species. ` Thought Harry

` I agree` nodded the voice.

` Its time you visited the Perverell Vault, I'll project the location and you provide the magic Harry. `

With a displacement of air, Harry vanished only to reappear hundreds of thousands of miles below ground. The air was hot and humid as dozens of Ukrainian ironbelly`s and Hungarian Horntails surrounded the vault number 69.

Harry couldn't contain it anymore and he snorted with laughter as he took in the sight of the number. ` What a sense of humour` said the voice dryly.

The dragons sensing the undeniable level of threat from Harry gave him way as he strode past them a smirk marring his face.

`Place your palm facing upwards upon the vault door` intoned the voice.

Doing as instructed the door simmered out of view and the vaults contents were laid bare for Harry to see. All that remained to be seen was a single scroll of parchment a picture of a crow in flight.

` This is what we came for?` Said Harry.

`It's worth it young Harry. Sign your name with your blood and in time we shall bare witness to the spillage of your enemies bloods….


	4. AN

**I'm curious and wondering who you guys think the voice is that's plaguing Harry.**

 **Send me a PM or write a review on your answer, if guessed correctly by the first five people I'll send them a sneak peek of the next chapter.**

 **Ja mata ne**


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